I somehow still lost, I somehow always do
by mjwrites
Summary: Oneshot set during the second season. After a long case, the team try to relax and take their mind off the events they have suffered through, yet all Aaron can do is focus on one person. Someone who is acting differently and still recovering from her shooting, the mental scars no one had cared to ask about torturing her. Elle has built her walls, but Aaron wants to bring them down.


**AN: Hello readers, this is a small oneshot set during season two of Criminal Minds - just before the events of 'Aftermath'. There are a couple of instances of language used throughout this, towards the end of the piece, so keep that in mind if you aren't fond of its usage. This was me practising writing Elle throughout her PTSD - which is implied throughout with Elle's behaviour but not brought up. Apart from that I have nothing left to add - minus that I appreciate any feedback you could give me - so I hope you enjoy this, it is the first thing I have written for a while! Thank you for reading.**

* * *

A melancholy air had settled over the streets of New York City. High above the mountainous buildings, dark clouds had threateningly gathered – waiting for the right moment to drown out those below. Every now and again they would betray their intentions by allowing a droplet or two to shatter down to the ground, a warning sign for commuters to hurry home. Abundant shades of grey were amalgamated together across the skyline, enhancing the presence of the stormy skies.

Anyone far from home was seeking shelter – and a small group of people, their true identities unknown and not cared about to the masses around them, were no different. Derek, having declared the team deserved one night of relaxation after a heavy case, had lead them down a busy street and towards a cosy looking restaurant. Situated in one of the many side roads that eventually would lead away from the heart of the city.

It's exterior wasn't flashy, but homely. Brickwork that was fading and slightly cracked, was beautifully decorated in wisps of ivy that twisted up the side of the building. Strands of the plant clutched to the top of the sign that bore the restaurant name in curled, golden lettering. A name that, as Elle put it, was about as authentically Mexican as the reheated frozen tacos from Walmart that she had eaten for breakfast that morning.

Naturally, on every menu there was elegant writing that declared the dishes to be just that, authentically Mexican. Elle's raised eyebrows expressed their disagreement without the woman having to open her mouth. Despite that, in good time meals had been ordered and the team were sitting around the table, talking, laughing and drinking as they waited. Beside them, candles flicked and illuminated the drizzling rain outside as it clattered against the window unheard as stringed music flooded the room.

Soon, the problems the case had brought them had been forgotten as conversation turned to happy memories that easily gained laughs from the team. It was halfway through JJ's story about a soccer game gone wrong that the meal arrived, and it was in that moment where Aaron's attention had been diverted away from conversation and onto Elle, who he realized couldn't have said more than a sentence since placing her order.

Momentarily he dismissed it, considering she had been rather quiet recently, perfectly fitting with the new norm. Then, as he started working on the various tlacoyo's and soups he had been interested in, thoughts of Elle filled him once more. After all, there had to be something wrong when he ignored her quietness due to the fact she had been keeping to herself in recent weeks. Chancing another glance across at her, a tiny figure in-between Derek and Gideon, he also realized she had the smallest dish out of them all.

Perhaps he was simply being over observant, so he pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind and continued to eat. However, he caught himself looking over to Elle whenever a joke was told, noting how her stretched smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Hey, Elle," he finally said as a means of getting her into conversation. Lethargically she looked up from the plate, where she had been pushing vegetables around with her fork. "I think we deserve a top up, could you give me a hand at the bar?"

"Um, sure," she mumbled. Walking side by side, Aaron waited until the barman was working away at their order to turn to Elle who was staring unblinkingly down at the polished wooden surface of the bar.

"Is everything okay?" His question made her look up from the spot of interest, wide eyed and momentarily taken aback.

"Erm, yeah, why wouldn't it be?" She finally responded, grabbing her drink that had been placed on the tray and taking a gulp.

"I was just wondering, it was a tiring case," Aaron replied, watching as a considerable amount of vodka was taken from her glass before being placed down once more.

"Well, thanks for the concern, but I'm fine," Came a snapped response that brought silence between the pair. For the rest of the night, the two didn't make any attempt to converse. Elle too wrapped up in her thoughts and her drink, Hotch too concerned about her to fully place his attention on what was happening around him. Derek's jokes and playful taunting of Reid, which were matched by JJ's jokingly mothering tendencies to protect him, were left for the three to enjoy between them.

Eventually Gideon left early, saying he needed to get some sleep before flying back tomorrow. Elle then departed, not for their hotel, but for the bar. Aaron watched as she slid onto a seat and was presented with another glass, before looking back to her plate which had barely been touched.

It was almost midnight when the group finally left, Derek and JJ arm in arm as Spencer stuck close behind them. Hotch further behind as he slowed down in order to be walking alongside Elle, who he was pretty sure would have stayed at the bar for another couple of hours if not for Derek stating he would carry her back over his shoulder if he had to.

"I can walk without you checking up on me you know," she mumbled after a minute of the two walking in total silence beside each other. "I'm not stupid I know what you are doing."

"And what would I be doing right now?"

"You've been walking so slow you may as well be walking backwards. I told you in the bar, I'm fine." Aaron wasn't convinced, but knew better than to argue with his stubborn friend. Instead he shrugged and continued to walk alongside her. Occasionally he would glance over at her, then she would look up at him questioningly, before both of them turned away and allowed their silence to be shattered only by the jokes of the three ahead of them.

Reaching the hotel after a short walk, slightly wet having being caught out in a light shower, everyone in the group said their goodnights and dispersed to their rooms. When Aaron reached his bed, he took a note of the time – quarter past twelve – before laying back and falling immediantly into a deep sleep.

* * *

Something, somewhere, awoke Aaron with a hollow thud. Echoing from the source, the sound was enough to jolt the man out of his dreams. Immediately his mind was conjuring up hundreds of potential scenarios. Most likely, there was someone in his room. Sitting up, he attempted to find the switch for his lamp, the blurriness of his vision enough to make it a struggle. By the time a dim light was attempting to work wonders in the dark, there had been another thud, followed by unintelligible mumbling.

"Who's there?" He demanded to know, as he kicked away his covers, feeling incredibly vulnerable. After all, he told himself, there could be an incredibly dangerous criminal in his room and he was in his pyjamas. Stumbling through into the living area, Aaron turned on the main light, only to get blinded for a split second before adjusting to the change.

Nothing was out of the ordinary, his door was still locked and bolted, his case and belongings neatly placed on the desk shoved into the corner of the room. Behind him, the window safely closed with curtains drawn. Everything was fine, good job too, for he was far away from any sort of defence. Confused, he just stood there, eyes glancing over every inch of his small hotel room. After panic had departed, common sense returned in its place.

For a start, there were staff situated all over the place… and even if there weren't there were guards constantly monitoring CCTV. Reassured by his thoughts, Aaron turned on the spot to return to bed, only to hear a whimpering from beyond the wall. Slowly he looked to it, the cogs in his mind turning, trying to remember who was there. It wasn't until there was another, familiar thud – followed by a yell, that he remembered just who was taking residence in the room.

"Elle…" he breathed, before rushing over to the door, pulling it open, and pounding on hers. "Elle?" Frantically he continued to hit against the wooden barrier, until he heard a click in the lock. When she revealed herself, she didn't do so in a series of sarcastic comments or harsh questions as was expected, instead she was silent. Simply looking down and clinging to the door for support.

Curiously he observed her. Her eyes were tinted red and her cheeks puffy, water droplets dabbed around her features suggested she had been attempting to wash away any hint of sadness. Attempts had failed, but Aaron didn't say a word about it. Slowly though, his gaze travelled to her hand which was curled around the doorframe, finding a deep cut running across it, knuckles covered in both new and dry blood. Damage was raw, evident and finally enough for him to ask her: _"Are you okay?"_

And for the first time, despite many times of asking, Elle slowly shook her head – before pushing herself from the door and into Hotch. Not expecting her to seek comfort, their sudden contact took him aback, but he recovered quickly and wrapped his arms around her. Pulling her in for the hug she had initiated.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" she mumbled into his chest as her arms wrapped around his back. Suddenly, her voice cracked, and a new set of tears began to fall.

"Hey, hey, shhh. You don't have anything to apologize for," he whispered gently, carefully placing his chin on top of her head and running the hand not wrapped around her tiny waist through her hair soothingly. "Let's go inside, come on," he mumbled after a couple of moments of the two of them being suspended in their embrace. Pulling away, Elle nodded, wiping at her eyes before leading him though into her room.

"Did I, um, wake you up?" She asked, the words shuddering slightly as her voice fought against the tears.

"Oh, er, no. I was already up. Rough night for both of us I guess," he lied, sticking on a smile as she dropped back onto the edge of the bed with a small bounce. Turning his back on her, the man closed the door, before leaning against it and watching her. Once she was in a steady position, she let out a long sigh. "Bad dream?"

"Mmhm," Elle confirmed with a mumble, nodding her head slightly before looking across to Aaron, not quite meeting his eyes.

"You want to talk about it?"

"I… don't know," she shrugged, wincing slightly as she leant back on the bed, using her hand to support her movements. Only to place too much weight on her busted hand. "Fuck…" she hissed, her hand snapping back from the bed as quickly as she had caused herself pain.

"Wait there, I'll get you something," Hotch informed her, pushing away from the door and heading for the small bathroom to their right. Grabbing a wash cloth placed beside the sink, the man ran hot water over it, before heading back to Elle who was cradling her hand. "Here," he said softly, sitting beside her and taking her hand, placing the cloth over the crackled knuckles and applying slight pressure to it. Elle winced again, but didn't pull away.

"What did you do?"

"Well, I don't exactly know, but errr… I remember waking myself up because my hand hurt. I think I hit that side table by accident," as soon as she blamed the table, Aaron cast a glance across to it. Seeing how it was a considerable distance away from the bed – especially when compared to the untouched table to the other side - Elle's assumptions seemed to be true.

"I'd hate to you see you purposely hit it," Aaron mused. With a sad, small smirk, Elle leant back into him, resting her head on his shoulder. "How is your hand?"

"It kills," Elle replied bluntly, lifting the cloth up to examine the damage, before placing it down again.

"Stupid question. We can stop by the hospital for some stitches tomorrow if needed." Aaron suggested, placing an arm around her shoulders. "But, because we don't have anything better to do, why don't you tell me about your dream. I don't want to be pushy, but it helps to get things off your chest." And for a moment, nothing between them was revealed.

* * *

"It was Garner," she finally admitted, after taking a deep breath.

"Garner?"

"I keep dreaming about my… my shooting," she revealed, tears collecting at her eyes once more. "Most nights… I… I can't remember the last time I didn't wake up because of it," came the admission.

"Elle-"

"God that sounds so stupid. Is it stupid?" She was crying again now, the tears waiting to drop now slowly tricking down her reddened cheeks.

"Of course it isn't stupid, you were shot in your own home, it's natural," Aaron tried to reassure her, failing in his attempts.

"But, I just, like… he invades my home and now I can't even stop the bastard from invading my dreams. I feel so _fucking_ pathetic-"

"-You are far from pathetic-"

"-really? Then why can't I tune these dreams out? I can't even feel comfortable in my own home these days. I'm so stupid, this is all my fault," her opinions soon were cut off by her voice being crushed by a wave of hysteria.

"No, this is not your fault, not at all," Aaron attempted to tell her, holding her tightly as she sobbed. "This is far from being your fault." And for a while, the two stayed together in such a fashion – one trying to reassure the other.

"Sometimes," Elle weakly stuttered, attempting to wipe the tears away with her good hand, "I think about what I could have done to stop it from happening."

"You couldn't have done anything. Please Elle, this isn't your fault and blaming yourself isn't helping…"

"It isn't fair."

"No, it isn't. But we can work through this. You should have told me before, if I would have known, we could have done something earlier."

"I didn't think you'd find it that big of a deal and I mean, you have Hayley and Jack and-" before she could continue, Aaron was cutting her off, taken aback at her comments.

"Not that big a deal? Look at yourself. I want to help you."

"Really?" She asked, looking up to him hopefully. Taking a moment, he observed her. Strands of hair stuck to her face due to the damp of her cheeks, her eyes were still watery and shocking red. Tears still cascading down and falling to her lap. Slowly, he raised his hand and ran it down the side of her face, removing the collected strands of hair clinging to her cheeks.

"Really. We can sort this out, I promise you. But you have to know you can come to me. No matter when, I can help you," Finishing taking the hair from her face, his hand dropped beside hers, his fingers slowly stretching towards her own.

"I don't want to be a burden," she sniffled, moving her hand away from his to try and wipe away the tears once more.

"Oh stop it, how could you be a burden? Don't answer that," he quickly added when Elle opened her mouth to interject. "But really, I promise you, we can work through this. But for now, why don't you try and get back to sleep? We have to fly back tomorrow and that is always guaranteed to take it out of you."

"What if I have another nightmare?" She asked in a childlike voice, scared of the prospect of being visited by Garner one more, her evident worry something Aaron had never expected to see on the woman he was so used to maintaining a strong exterior.

"I'll be right here. I promise. I'm not going to leave you."

"You promise?"

"I do. He can't hurt you Elle… and I'm going to do everything I can to make sure he can't..."


End file.
